


Harry's Unbreakable Vow

by mfingenius



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Don't copy to another site, M/M, Unbreakable Vow (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-23 18:01:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mfingenius/pseuds/mfingenius
Summary: Harry Potter takes the Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco Malfoy instead of Snape. He now has one year to befriend Draco and convince him to run away with him.It's... interesting.





	Harry's Unbreakable Vow

Harry starts with small things. 

“Malfoy,” he greets, as they’re passing. To his surprise, instead of insulting him or sneering, Malfoy merely blinks dazedly and murmurs, “Potter.”

Harry doesn’t know what has changed. When Narcissa Malfoy had showed up at his doorstep asking him to protect Draco, he’d been convinced she’d gone insane. 

_ There is no way _ , he’d told her.  _ Malfoy hates me. He’ll never let me help him. _

_ No, _ Narcissa had said.  _ He doesn’t _ .

Harry had pointed out that, even if Narcissa were right – which she’s not – he'd never let Harry help him. She’d agreed, and only said,  _ leave that to me _ .

Harry has no idea what she did, but the mere fact that Malfoy isn’t jumping at the chance to hex him or ridicule him means she did something right.

A few weeks into the school year, Harry asks Malfoy if he wants to study with him. Malfoy doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t laugh at Harry or even question the nature of his actions. He’s been looking odd, lately, dazed. Harry wonders if his mother put him under an  _ Imperio _ . 

His worry is only increased when Malfoy accidently gets in Ron’s way, Ron says ‘ _ move’ _ , and Malfoy  _ does.  _ Harry’s not stupid enough to send Narcissa Malfoy an irate letter to Malfoy Manor, but he’s nearly angry enough to do it.

She sends weekly reports on what has happened at the manor –  _ I'll pass on information _ , she’d promised,  _ in exchange of your protection to my son –  _ that set themselves on fire after Harry has finished reading them. _ _ Harry’s not supposed to write back, so he doesn’t.

He focuses, instead, on Malfoy.

Crabbe,  Goyle , and Parkinson don’t hang around him anymore. The only person who still hovers uncertainly is  Zabini , and Harry assumes that they’re the only ones who were actually  _ friends _ . He sees the worry carefully disguised on his face, how he puts more food on Malfoy’s plate when Malfoy’s distracted.

“Potter,” Malfoy says, blinking heavily. “What are you doing here?”

Harry’s carrying four tomes on mind-controlling spells – he wants to find exactly what Narcissa Malfoy used on her son – and standing uncertainly in front of Malfoy’s table. 

_ Befriend him _ , Narcissa’s voice rings in his head.  _ Convince him he’s safer away from the Manor. _

“Can I sit here?” Harry asks. He shuffles uncertainly, but is greatly assured by the fact that Malfoy doesn’t immediately tell him to go to hell. “This table has the best lighting.”

Harry has no idea if that’s true; it’s just some rubbish Hermione has been repeating for the last six years, and Malfoy and her are more alike than either of them would like to admit, which is why Harry thinks that Malfoy’s reason for liking this table is the same as Hermione’s.

“It does,” Malfoy agrees mildly. Then, “Alright.”

Harry sits down.

“What are you reading?” Malfoy asks, looking down at the books Harry’s put on the table. Harry tries to hide his surprise at Malfoy willingly starting conversation. “That’s... a pretty questionable choice of topic.”

Harry flushes. “I’m not trying to use it on somebody. I’m just...”

“You want to be prepared,” Malfoy tilts his head in agreement, and Harry nods, relieved at having an excuse outlined for him. 

“Yes,” He says. “I don’t want to have any of these used against me.” 

“There’s not going to be anything good there,” Malfoy says. His own book – a heavy tome on fixing malfunctioning spells – is open on his lap instead of the table. “If you want to know the sorts of things You-Know-Who is using, you’ll need things from the Restricted Section, not something a first year can check out.”

“I’m not quite... looking there, yet.” Harry says carefully. He wants to think that whatever Narcissa used on her son is relatively harmless. “I want to be as informed as I can on the subject.”

Malfoy hums and goes back to his reading.

They don’t say a word for the rest of the afternoon, but Harry counts it as a win.

*

Harry makes sure to study with Malfoy at least three times a week. He doesn’t do it every day because he doesn’t want to scare Malfoy away – if that’s even possible in the mellow, distant state that he’s in – and hopes no one catches on that there’s something different.

Of course, that’s a crappy plan. He should’ve really gone to Hermione before starting this.

“What the fuck do you want with Draco, Potter?”  Zabini’s wand is drawn but it’s not yet pointed at Harry. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you watching him, or hanging around him.”

“I want us to get along,” Harry says mildly. It's not a lie. 

“You’ve never been interested in that before.”  Zabini says. “You want something from him.”

“No, I don’t.” Harry says. “And I don’t see why I can’t suddenly be interested in him.”

Zabini frowns. “Do you want to fuck him? Is that it? Because believe me, Potter, Draco has much more important things to worry about than you and your prick-”

“No!” Harry says, horrified. “I don’t want to fuck him. I wouldn’t - that’s not – no.”

Zabini snorts. “Sure, Potter, keep telling yourself that.”

*

Harry can’t stop thinking about  Zabini’s question.  Does he want to fuck Draco? He doesn’t think so. At least not yet. But he can’t deny that Draco’s attractive, and, now that he’s not insulting him, he’s quite nice to be around.

He begins hanging around Draco – because he’s  _ Draco _ now, and it’s something Harry never thought would happen – more often, and they develop a fragile sort of friendship. Malfoy still won’t tell him any personal stuff – so Harry hasn’t brought up running away from the Manor – but he doesn’t seem to find Harry’s presence odd anymore, and he’s even smiled because of something Harry has done or said  _ twice _ .

It’s very big progress, Harry thinks.

They’re in November when Draco first tells him anything real.

“I want to go,” He whispers. They’re sitting in the Quidditch pitch after a match, and it’s all but emtpy. “I want to leave.”

“Leave?” Harry asks. “To your dorm? Are you tired?”

Draco nods. “I’m so tired.”

Harry doesn’t think they’re talking about the same thing.

“Of what?” he asks, carefully.

“This. All of it.” His voice lower and he sounds young, like a child. He  _ is _ a child. They both are, they’re only sixteen. “I want to - I'm scared, Harry.”

“Of what?” Harry presses.

“You-Know-Who.” Draco says. “What he’s going to do to me.”

He doesn’t say anything more on the subject, and Harry doesn’t push.

*

There’s a definite change after that. Draco trusts him a lot more, and Harry finds himself trusting him, too. They actually talk about things and Harry doesn’t  _ mind _ Draco’s wit anymore. In fact, he misses it. He hates the vacant, distant haze that Draco’s being kept in.

He  floos Narcissa Malfoy about it. They set the time and place properly so that she won’t get caught, and Hary doesn’t even say hello before saying, “What did you do to Draco?”

Narcissa raises a brow. “I wasn’t aware you were on a first name basis with my son. And I thought you didn’t care for him.”

“You told me to befriend him.” Harry says. “I did. Did you  _ Imperio _ him?”

“Do you think I would use an unforgivable on my son?” Narcissa asks.

Harry doesn’t know what she  _ wouldn’t _ do, if she thought it were for Draco’s wellbeing.

“It’s not an  _ Imperio _ .” She says, when Harry doesn’t answer. “It’s a potion. On the chocolates I send him.”

Harry doesn’t know if that’s worse.

“You should stop putting it in them.” Harry tells her. “We’re friends now. I can convince him of leaving without the potion.”

He’s not certain he can, but he doesn’t think he can take the dull edge on Draco’s eyes anymore.

“Are you certain?” Narcissa asks. “You should take this decision knowing that both your life and my son’s hang in the balance. If you fail...”

Harry knows what will happen if he fails. He read up on Unbreakable Vows before he agreed to Narcissa’s plan.

“I’m sure.” He says.

*

The change is noticeable. Draco’s sharp edges come back – the sneers, the glares, the wit – but it’s not as it was before. Even though he’s not on the potion anymore, he remembers everything that happened while he was, and he treats Harry like a friend. He  _ trusts _ him.

There are no more slurs, no more biting insults. The sarcasm, the glares – they're  _ playful _ . 

Harry loves it.

And then comes the anxiety.

He’d researched the potion after Narcissa had given him the name, and he knows that it kept Draco in a compliant state, mellow and mild where nothing really mattered and everything was grey. Now that it’s gone, the stress of everything that’s happening seems to be crashing down on him. He stops eating and he stops sleeping and Harry can see the worry on  Zabini’s face more clearly now and he knows it’s mirrored on his own.

He needs to find a way to make this better, now.

*

He doesn’t come up with the plan until after the winter holidays. Draco comes back from them looking hollow and distant, and it’s not because of a potion. Harry knows it’s an emergency.

“What are we doing here, Harry?” Draco asks. He's fidgeting anxiously, and Harry fights the urge to place his hands on his waist to still him. That's another thing that’s changed. Ever since Narcissa stopped putting the potion in his food, he began being  _ him _ again, and now Harry’s entirely certain he has a teeny tiny crush.

Okay, a little bigger than tiny. A  _ lot _ bigger than tiny.

“ _ We _ ,” Harry says. “Are not doing anything.  _ You _ are going to sleep.”

Draco huffs and rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for this-”

“ _ Yes _ , you do,” Harry says, firing a locking spell at the door of the room of Requirement. Draco raises his eyebrows at him, unimpressed. “You need to sleep, and I'm not letting you leave until after you’ve taken a nap.”

“I’m not a  _ child _ ,” Draco says petulantly.

“If treating you like one is what keeps you alive,” Harry says with a pointed look at Draco’s ribs. They've been showing more lately, and there are dark bags under his eyes. Harry hates looking at them. “Then it’s what I'll do.”

Draco huffs again and crosses his arms. They have a staring contest, and Draco looks away first. He huffs again but uncrosses his arms, crossing the room to lie stiffly on the bed there.

“There,” he says, glaring at Harry. The effect is greatly undermined by the relief showing on his face, the way his hair fans out on the pillow. “Are you happy?”

“Not until you sleep.” Harry says.

Draco makes a complaining noise on the back of his throat and turns away from Harry. After half an hour, he turns back to him again, looking frustrated.

“I can’t sleep.” he complains. 

“Why not?” Harry asks from where he’s sitting, fiddling with his wand. “You look ready to drop.”

Draco scowls and stays quiet for a while.

“I - have nightmares.” he admits quietly. “I can’t sleep because I don’t want to - I can’t - I don’t want to have them again.”

Harry immediately softens. He has his fair share of nightmares about Voldemort, and he’s never lived with him.

“Would it help if I stayed here with you?” he asks.

“You’d be willing to sleep with me?” Draco looks at him with a guarded expression that doesn’t quite conceal the hopefulness of his tone. 

It wasn’t what Harry meant, but he nods. “If it would help.”

“We can – we can try.” Draco says. “I’d like to try.”

So they do.

*

Naps in the room of requirement become a common occurrence. Harry doesn’t want to admit it, but he sleeps better with Draco in bed than he has in years. The summer is getting closer, and he knows he has to mention to Draco the idea of running away before it’s too late.

“I want you to come with me.” He blurts with no preamble.

“What?” Draco asks, frowning. He’s staring down at his book, but he’s not reading. He seems to have been lost in thought for a while now.

“I want you to come with me.” Harry repeats. “In the summer. You’re not safe at the manor, and we can stay in  Grimmauld place, and-”

“Harry,” Draco interrupts lightly. “I want that. More than anything.” Harry’s chest swells with happiness. “But I can’t abandon my mother at the manor.”

“She’s not defenseless.” Harry points out. “She’s protected you for this long, hasn’t she?”

“Protected me?” Draco asks. 

_ Fuck _ .

“You’re alive.” Harry says. “I assume she has a lot to do with that.”

“She does,” Draco admits. “But it’s mutual. If I – if I don’t do as he says, he’ll kill her.”

“But if you go back there it’ll be a cycle!” Harry exclaims. “You do as he says, he lets you live a little longer. Then there’s another task, or another order, and eventually there will be something you can’t do and that’s it!”

“I can’t focus on that.” Draco says, swallowing. “I have to focus on surviving  _ right now _ .”

“But isn’t there something-” Harry begins, frustrated.

“No!” Draco says. “You’re not  _ listening _ . He’s - there’s no way  _ out _ of this unless I’m  _ dead _ . That’s it. That’s the only way.”

Harry freezes.

“Did you hear me?” Draco asks impatiently. “There’s  _ no way _ .”

“There’s a way.” Harry says. “But I need you to believe in me. Do you trust me?”

Draco nods without hesitation.

*

Draco Malfoy dies the day before they go back home for the Holidays. It’s a showy ordeal, if Harry’s quite honest. A cursed gift, given to him during dinner. There's not even a body.

Narcissa Malfoy is beyond herself in grief, it is said, and so is Blaise Zabini. 

When Harry last sees him,  Zabini knocks his shoulder into Harry’s.

“Take care of him,” he murmurs.

Harry will.

*

“Finally,” Draco drawls, when Harry walks through the door of Grimmauld. Hermione and Ron are close behind him, and they both stare with wide eyes. “Honestly, Harry, I was about to start setting things on fire with how bored I was.”

Harry hums. “I don’t think that would be the best way to cope with boredom.” He grins. “After all, you  _ are _ dead now. I think  _ bored _ comes with the job description.”

Draco scowls, but he can’t quite manage to hide his relief. “Ha-ha, funny.” he shifts nervously. “So, it worked then?”

Harry nods. “Everyone believed it.”

“And my mother?” Draco asks nervously.

“I warned her, before.” he says. “She knows.”

“Harry?” Ron squeaks. “What is this? Why is Malfoy here? Is he a ghost?”

Harry grins.

“Nope,” Draco drawls. “Alive and well, Weasley, as much as you’d like me otherwise.”

“Harry, what’s going  _ on _ ?” Hermione asks, voice hilariously high. 

“We’ll explain.” Harry says.

He starts from the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @mfingenius :DD


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